She ducked her head, red staining her cheeks. “I should have watched where I was going.” The slight laugh in her voice assured him she was neither hurt nor so embarrassed she could not be at ease with him.
He allowed a full smile to rest on his mouth. He stopped and glanced at her neck. “Your ring is still in place, I see.”
Her head flung toward him, eyes wide, lips parted as if such a pronouncement were both unexpected and reassuring. She touched the ring and looked away. “’Twas kind of you to think of it.”
A mournful smile passed her lips as he helped her to standing, one hand on her shoulder, his other at her elbow. She turned toward him and William stilled, his pulse rising. He gazed down at her, his gentle grip still anchoring him in place. Something about their nearness arrested his senses. Her pink cheeks and clear eyes, the heady scent of late summer, and the sound of their breath sparked a yearning he hadn’t felt for years.
Dangerous waters, Henry.
Yet, he couldn’t move.
She blinked and he noted the long lashes that framed her eyes like black lace. Move, you fool! His muscles rebelled and he stayed motionless a moment longer. She closed her lips as her eyes darted to his mouth and instantly down to her feet.
Forcing his hands to release their hold, he broke the trance, keeping his movements slow to prove he hadn’t been affected.
He offered a light bob of the head and found a way to make his legs start moving again. How many years had passed since he’d been so close to a woman? He pulled his shoulders back, keeping a steady pace that his companion matched step for step.
There had been Kitty, of course, though she had been more like a sister to him—gentle like Julia and fiery like Jane. Kitty’s closeness hadn’t muddled his thinking, hadn’t doubled his pulse or caught his breath.
He looked forward, the phantoms rising before him once more. Her shoulders had been just as delicate. Her eyes just as sweetly framed. The tone of her voice like birdsong. But the deceit in her soul had been black as the night she’d carried away his heart. The night his actions had all but killed those he loved most.
The tainted parts of him resisted the boyish inclinations to steal another glance at the lovely stranger, reminding himself that women were not to be trusted, were full of lies and ready to use a man for
their own pleasures. He would be wise to remember that, lest he suffer the same pains again.
Somehow, from the windows of heaven a whisper niggled his conscience. Your mother was not as she, nor Julia or Jane or Kitty.
With another quick look to the lady, he clenched and released his fists, desperate to ignore the clash of emotions that warred within. What was so innocent about this stranger? What made her seem so sincere? He knew nothing of her, and somehow that fact failed to caution as it should. With a rough breath, he put his feelings in their rightful place, far from the reaches of his memory.
Sandwich was a hard day’s journey, but well worth the pains. ’Twas a chance to get to safety, and a chance to leave this woman—and his phantoms—behind.
~~~
They were nearly there, he’d said, but his statement had been uttered when the sun still graced the sky. Now, darkness had cloaked them for more than several hours. Anna rubbed her hands up and down her arms and looked toward the sky. ’Twas only a half-moon, and therefore half the light, making their passage more treacherous, more tedious.
Fatigue cut to her core, but she refused to let a single whimper escape her lips. She was strong, and courageous, and capable—no matter what her father believed. And if William’s word proved trustworthy, she would have a place to stay protected. That is, at least until she discovered what to do next.
Their conversation was polite but clipped. Though he’d seemed ever watchful and kind, William kept careful distance since that startling moment at the beginning of their journey. For that, she was grateful. Though now, with the pains of their tireless journey scraping her very bones, speaking would be a blessed distraction.
Heaven’s mercy! How much longer?
“Mr. Fredericks?”
The pale light cast shadows on his face as he turned to look at her. “You may use my Christian name.”
She offered a polite smile, before studying the dark path. Though she had begun to think of him as William, speaking it aloud was far too intimate. “Have you any family in Sandwich?”
He halted mid-step, turning to her with questioning creases around his eyes.
His falter caused her to stop as well. The crickets and frogs filled the night air with their croaks and chirps. But William said nothing, only stared, his silhouette mingling with the shadows.
Finally, he broke the crushing silence, his voice low and deep. “I have no family, Miss Whitehead.”
He turned and stared again without another word, leaving Anna behind him. Inky ribbons of regret twisted around her. She should never have asked, for clearly he hadn’t wished to speak of family. Whatever his reasons, they pained, or his tone would not have carried so much sorrow. And here he continued to use a name that wasn’t even hers.
Stupid, ignorant girl. Carrying on with her need to keep her identity secret seemed a vain attempt. Why continue the charade when her rescuer could likely do more for her if indeed he knew her true identity.
“Mr. Fredericks.”